


Many Hands

by akire_yta



Series: prompt ficlets [630]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:55:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22855075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akire_yta/pseuds/akire_yta
Summary: thebaconsandwichofregret askedKeeping on the Jeff theme, Jeff awkwardly trying to bond with Alan now he's an adult and not the little kid he left behind pretty please?
Series: prompt ficlets [630]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/53353
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	Many Hands

“Dad, I can do it.”

Alan sounds a lot like Scott, annoyed and frustrated but trying not to let it show. A lot of Alan reminds Jeff of Scott these days, another point of reminder that Jeff’s been away a long, long time.

But he has been, and Scott’s thumbprints are all over Alan now, a reminder that Jeff just wasn’t _there_. But Jeff has maybe learned a trick along the way.

With Scott he’d have pressed the point, sure he was in the right. But being stuck on the edge of space humbles a man, and with long days of nothing but survival, Jeff has learned patience.

“Okay, squirt. Show me.”

Alan blinks, and Jeff wonders what thumbprints he left on Scott that have been passed on down the line, but before the thought can take root, Alan is off, grabbing tools and leaping onto the repair platform.

Brains has been busy; Three’s almost a new machine, for all she has a heart-rendering familiar silhouette. Truth be told, Jeff’s not sure of much since he’s been home, least of all his old Thunderbird.

It’s a moot point; Three is Alan’s now. It’s clear from the familiar way he snaps boards back together, the gentle caress of a pilot for his machine as Alan closes down the hatch. “See, perfect.”

Jeff smiles to cover his scrabble for control, reaches out for Alan. That Alan tucks himself easily under Jeff’s wing gives incremental comfort that maybe there’s still a place for him here after all this time. “That it is. Come on, squirt, let’s go wash up for dinner.”

Only when Alan’s vanished back towards the house does Jeff tentatively reach out and give Three’s hull a little pat. He sighs, fingers spread on bright red paint, and goes to follow his son back upstairs.


End file.
